


Raving

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22313947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Chris suffers through friendship.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	Raving

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“Do you think he’s got a dick?”

Chris doesn’t answer. Chris rarely ever answers. Unlike most of their peers, he actually _likes_ Gavin, and he’s happy to spend his break tucked away at the little table in the corner of the office, talking shop over coffee. What he _doesn’t_ want to hear about is Gavin’s endless android musings. More specifically, Connor musings. Gavin doesn’t seem to have much to say about any other models, and Chris doesn’t ask, because Chris got bored of this conversation at least a week ago. 

“Even if he does,” Gavin rambles on, because apparently Connor’s fictitious dick is more important than Chris’ input, “it’s not a _real_ dick, you know? Like, I get that. But do you think it looks realistic, or is it just some stupid smooth silicone dildo thing?” He finally looks Chris dead in the eye, boring through Chris’ soul like it actually matters. 

Chris shrugs and dully answers, “I dunno, man.”

“Yeah, obviously. But speculate with me. Like, statistically speaking, how likely is it his dick looks good? Tracis have dicks, right, and I get it, we’re not talking about a Traci on the market, but a prototype detective, but c’mon, nobody’s gonna design a robot you can’t fuck, right? Not that I’d fuck it. I’m just saying. You think he’s got balls?”

“Oh my God, Gavin.”

Gavin shakes his head like it’s an incredible conundrum he just can’t wrap his mind around. He takes another swig of pure black caffeine and answers his own question, “Of course not. Why would he?” It’s not lost on Chris that whenever these conversations start up, Connor’s suddenly a ‘he’ instead of an ‘it.’ “It’s not like he’s got seed. Unless they’ve got some kind of replacement thing like that blue blood shit. You ever fuck a Traci?”

“Dude, I got a wife.”

“I’m just asking.” 

Chris just _looks_ at him, and Gavin takes the hint and moves on to, surprise-surprise, Connor’s potential genitals. “He’s probably impotent anyway. But they must’ve given him an asshole at the very least, right? Like... otherwise why make him so _pretty_ , y’know? That stupid mug didn’t need to be nearly that attractive, but they designed him that way anyway, so of course he’s gotta have some kind of fuckhole. Maybe he’s got a cunt. I mean, I’m not saying _I_ think he’s pretty, because obviously I recognize he’s a useless dipshit, but just... objectively speaking. If you gave him an attitude adjustment, you could do something with him. Somebody seriously needs to spank that guy—”

Finally, Chris can’t take it anymore. He just reaches his peak and forgets all protocol and friendship, blurting out, “Do you have a thing for Connor?” And by that he means: _You seriously have a thing for Connor. And need to get over it. Now._ He doesn’t know why he even posed it as a question.

Gavin looks at him like he’s grown a second head, then vehemently hisses, “Of course not! Why would I—how could you even—what the _fuck_ , dude?”

Chris drinks down the last of his coffee. He sighs, “Whatever,” and just leaves.


End file.
